


What do I call you now?

by MistMorpheus



Category: SCP Foundation
Genre: Back When Clef Was New to the Job, Gen, Orientation, THE CHEMISTRY, the dynamics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 02:38:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18274103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MistMorpheus/pseuds/MistMorpheus
Summary: "What do I call you now?""Right question," the man said, pointing to the ukelele lying on his desk.





	What do I call you now?

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at http://mistmorpheus.lofter.com/post/1d86fa96_116b8a53 on 19 October, 2017. Upload for archival purposes.

"What do I call you now?"

"Jack? Didn't expect to see you so soon." The man bending over a cardboard box looked up. He looked ruffled and slightly unkempt, with prominent dark circles under his eyes, but in better spirits than when Bright last saw him.

"I'm Personnel, remember?" said Bright, leaning on the door frame. "I'm here to welcome you on board."

"Thanks, head," the man replied. "What's the real problem?"

"What do I call you now?"

"Right question," the man said, pointing to the ukelele lying on his desk.

"No," Bright enunciated.

The man appeared unfazed, and returned to his cardboard box.

"Fine," Bright sighed. "Which chord?"

"A Major."

"Well then, Dr. Alto Clef."

"I'll let you call me that," said Clef.

"You make it sound like a privilege."

"It is," Clef replied, rummaging in the box with a concentrated expression on his face. I wish I know what's in there, Bright thought, and immediately stopped himself. Ukelele - Clef did this all the time. There might have been absolutely nothing in that box. He cleared his throat. "How's your daughter?"

"How's your brother?"

There was a moment of silence before Jack replied, dryly, "Mikell is fine."

"You know I'm not talking about him."

Bright felt a sudden need to kick something really hard. Instead, he replied, as calmly as he could, "I have no idea how you knew, but I won't ask, since you won't tell me anyway."

"Sure."

"And he's fine. He's perfectly fine."

"Then I'd say she's as fine as he is," Clef said, expressionlessly.

"Good," Bright replied, unable to think of anything else to say. He drew in a deep breath, and opened the black folder in his hands. "So. Back to business. I know you did your fair share of paperwork yesterday, but here are still a few procedural agreements you need to read through and sign." Clef peered at the printed pages he put on the desk and nodded. "You're currently assigned to these two projects." He laid down two booklets. "Both of them are already underway, but we feel your knowledge and skills could be quite helpful for their advancement. You may need to do a quick catch-up before your first meeting with your teammates, scheduled on - let me check - one this Friday, and the other next Monday. These are just handy copies of project overviews. All you need to know can already be accessed through your intranet account, including your personal schedule. Your personal assistant has been designated, and will report to you officially first thing tomorrow morning."

Clef said, "You could easily have sent someone."

"I'm here to assume hospitality," Bright replied, "and say things they don't have the clearance, or authority, or guts to say. Since you're by no means a newbie, I'll skip the dos and don'ts part. But watch out. For obvious reasons, we're watching you more closely than others. I know you like to have your own way, and I won't comment on that, but we're at the Foundation here. Prove yourself indispensable before any fucking-around."

"Didn't know you cared."

"You've probably made a handful of world records, staying alive to this day," said Bright. "I have no intention to ruin those the first week in, now that you're in my hands." He knocked on the table twice with his knuckles. "Good luck to me."

He was closing the door behind him when Clef's voice sounded, "Jack?"

He opened the door again, "What?"

"Nice body."

"It's not for you to see," Bright retorted, and immediately regretted it.

Clef smirked in the way that always made Bright want to tear his face apart. "I wasn't implying that, Jack." He looked him up and down. "You look young. Younger than last time. I always forget what an old dog you are."

"No," Bright said. "You never forget. You have every weakness of me inscribed on a tiny tablet you carry around tucked in your underpants." The mental image made him flinch. "And you never stop prying for more."

Clef just chuckled. "Sometimes I think, Jack, that we're more alike than we'd care to admit."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"We shall see." Clef finally straightened up, lifting a shotgun from the box, its handle shimmering with new polish. "Now." He patted it lovingly and slung it over his shoulder. "Dinner?"

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by  
> \- An Ask on TDM's Tumblr: "Clef and I probably have the most history with each other. We were on opposite sides of the conflict, before he defected to us. There were a couple of encounters that, well...I'd say more, but they're still classified." (http://iamnotadamnedmonkey.tumblr.com/post/39021468707/what-do-you-think-of-the-other-researchers-do-you)  
> \- An Ask on DrClef's Tumblr: "Bright and I are at odds because we're too alike." (http://scp-l4-clef-alto-001.tumblr.com/post/128578455960/im-sending-this-through-the-eyes-of-my-scp)


End file.
